Of Space Mice and Paladins
by cutekittenlady
Summary: Pit is a member of a crack team of specialized operatives under the sole employment of Princess Allura of Altea who just wants to be taken seriously. Lance is the blue paladin of Voltron who just wants to be special. Keith is the pilot of the red lion who just wants his feelings to start making sense. BodySwap!Fic
1. Chapter 1

It was amazing how quickly one's life could change.

One day you and your friends are up late, hanging out, maybe thinking of sneaking into the kitchen to get a midnight snack.

And the next, you are all conscripted into a fledgling resistance movement attempting to topple an intergalactic dictatorship.

Life really was strange.

Of course their situation wasn't at all typical but Pit and his friends had taken a philosophical approach to the whole thing.

They were alive, had food and water, a comfy place to sleep, and even a group of people to keep them company. Though the people in question could be amazingly dense sometimes.

Jaq had said that was only natural. That it had something to do with how long it took their blood to reach their head. Pumping blood that high took a lot of energy, leaving little behind for thinking.

He had gone on to say that Pit should be grateful not to have been born as one of the 'big people'.

They're slow and lumber around everywhere thinkin they own the place. They're so big they can't get through any natural opening so they have to build these big doors to get anywhere. Absolutely abysmal way to live. Be grateful kid. We got lucky. We were born _mice_.

He always made a point to say the word "mice" as though it was something significant. Pit couldn't really see it. The others didn't really seem to either, though they never said anything.

Fitz never said anything outright. But he sniggered after every one of Jaq's ramblings, and whenever the dark blue mouse's back was turned, he would proceed to make what he thought to be accurate depictions of Jaq's sour expression.

If Jaq ever caught Fitz making such a face he would chase the pink mouse around going on and on about "proper respect" and "doing better by our mission". Though what that mission was, no one knew.

Pit had an idea that the the two were fighting for seniority. Out of the four, Jaq and Fitz were the oldest mice in their tiny makeshift nest, though which was older remained a complete mystery.

While the pink and dark blue mice went at it over their battle for supremacy, Pit was left at the side with Gus. Both patiently waiting for the squabble to be over.

Gus was easily the biggest and strongest member of their nest. He towered over the other three and could lift things with one paw that would, at times, take the combined might of the other three to even budge.

Despite this, Gus was a big softy. He had no desire to lead their little group. In fact the very idea seemed to send the big yellow blob into a fit of worry.

If there was any mouse in the universe who was completely satisfied with their station in life, it was Gus. Content to let the other have their way, even if that meant them standing on his head from time to time. He wasn't much of a conversationalist either. Hanging out with Gus usually only meant one thing. Food.

And then there was Pit.

Little, tiny, so small the-predators-wouldn't-notice-they'd-eaten-him Pit.

He was the youngest in the group. At least as far as he knew. The only evidence seemed to be Jaq's insistence on forever calling him "kid".

Really those two things seemed to Pit's only defining characteristics. He was the smallest and he was the youngest and that was all anyone really needed to know.

He couldn't take charge like Jaq tended to do. Getting up in front of everyone and shouting orders was awkward. The thought of it made the little blue mouse feel nervous.

He didn't have the boundless energy and bravery that Fitz had either. If you needed something done, and you needed it done fast, you sent in Fitz. He wasn't afraid of anything. Pit had seen him bite a drones finger clear off once.

And of course he wasn't big and strong like Gus.

Pit was just Pit.

It was a little frustrating at times. Having nothing you particularly excelled at.

Of course despite this the four still managed to be a successful team. Jaq was constantly insistent that they were the best mice available "for the job". And although the other three had little idea what "the job" was, they did have to agree that most things they set out to do together turned out successful.

The four didn't do much most days. Just hang around the castle, play little games with no clear rules, and keep the princess company. They were all rather dedicated to the last part.

Princess Allura was a priority that every one of the space mice shared. Even if she was one of the "big people" as Jaq liked to call them.

You just didn't share a cryo-pod with someone for 10,000 years, develop a psychic connection, and then NOT become friends. It stood to reason.

Especially since becoming connected to the princess had changed all four of them. Permanently.

Before being connected to Allura, there were many things that the space mice hadn't known about. They hadn't known about princesses, and kings, and castles. They hadn't known about space ships, the universe, other planets, or anything beyond what had been essential to know as a mouse.

As regular mice, they had known about things like predators, and food but that was just about it.

They hadn't really realized what they had been missing.

Allura had, at first, been concerned about them. They could feel it. She had thought that all this new information might be hard for them to process or accept.

But Jaq had shut her down almost immediately. Maybe those _humans_ could be overwhelmed but they were **MICE**. And mice were made of tougher stuff than that.

And really Jaq had been proven right. It was fun testing out all the new things they learned while being tied to the princess. Each of them experimenting with it in their own way.

After figuring out that you could ASK for food, Gus had become a common sight in the castle kitchen. One of the big people liked to hang around in there, and seemed to appreciate having Gus around as a voluntary taste tester.

Jaq and Fitz had taken to spending a lot of time together in the main control room. They'd already learned a lot from the princess, but Fitz was continually interested in learning more. In a rare show of agreement, Jaq took part in what he happily referred to as "intel collecting".

That left Pit on his own. Which was really quite rare. The other three mice had a habit of keeping Pit nearby where they could keep an eye on him.

But Pit was growing up. He was nearly a full year old (not counting those years he was frozen in the pod with the others), His front teeth had already fully come in, giving him a decent bit of biting power.

Well, it was more like nibbling power but Pit didn't see why that made too much of a difference. Nibbling and biting were the same basic action after all. One just involved more jaw movement.

Regardless, Pit enjoyed his alone time. He was free to wander the castle and do as he pleased. Pit especially enjoyed watching the "big people". Even if they were slow, they could be funny to watch.

Jaq. Fitz, and Gus knew about Pit's tendency to watch the humans, but made no comment on it. They only really seemed to take an interest whenever he would shared what he had seen with Princess Allura, who was always ready to listen to the bits of gossip.

As a direct result of his casual peeping, Pit liked to think he understood the humans a little bit more than the other mice did. Of course he could never be entirely sure. It wasn't like there was a test for this kind of thing.

After months and months of watching and listening Pit had definitely decided on a personal favorite paladin. Speaking of which….

As Fitz and Jaq's game of tag reached a fever pitch, Gus suddenly became invested in the goings on. Ready to intervene if it looked like the two would break out into a fight. The break in the big mouse's attention gave the little mouse just the opening he needed.

Quietly, and without alerting the others, Pit slipped into one of the nearby vents and made his way to the training deck. Expertly navigating the intricate maze of ducts.

It was nearly noon, which meant it was nearly time for the the paladin's training exercises. And little PIt didn't want to miss a thing.


	2. Chapter 2

There is no universal law greater than that of pure chance.

It is an aspect of reality that dictates every lifeform, every protein, and even the tiniest of atoms.

Will a planet be capable of supporting life? Depends on the chances of the right elements forming together in just the right way.

Will a sun go supernova or collapse in on itself to form a black hole? Depends on how the laws of physics are feeling at the time.

On Earth, will the Cubs ever win the world series? Just as soon as human scientists get a grant for genetically engineering avian swine and permanently freezing the planet's molten core.

How chance works, what dictates it, and how one can go about manipulating it to their advantage is something that the greatest minds of the universe have deliberated for eons.

Lance McClain deliberated on the universal law of chance as his face was introduced to the floor for the fifth time that morning.

"Ohhh that one's gonna bruise." he heard Pidge half chuckle on the sidelines.

Growling, Lance rolled over onto his back. He glanced over at Keith, who stood over him, out of breath but very much victorious.

"Again." he huffed.

Keith glared down at him disapprovingly. "You can't be serious."

"I am a hundred percent serious! Again!"

"Lance, c'mon man." Hunk soothed. "You've sparred with Keith like, what? Four times already?"

"Five." Pidge corrected.

"Either way, you both need to give it a rest."

"I'm not the one who keeps asking for another round like an idiot!" Keith complained.

"You're just scared cause you know I'll kick your ass next round!"

"Alright, that's enough!" Shiro physically came between the two. "Both of you take a break and cool your heads. Pidge, Hunk, you're up!"

The two looked at each other, a huge cheeky grin on the green paladin's face.

"Go easy on me?" Hunk asked.

"Only if you make those replica peanut butter cookies I like so much."

"Deal."

Lance brooded on the sidelines as he watched his best friend of five years get his ass brutally handed to him by a fourteen-year-old girl. But not even Pidge's usual mercilessness could cheer him up.

Five times.

He'd lost to Keith five times in a single morning.

That alone was nothing new. He usually lost sparring matches against the red paladin. But what was newly apparent was just how lopsided their current win to loss ratio was.

If Lance had been keeping track correctly he was currently riding at a score of 17 wins to 29 losses. And that was including everything from sparring to piloting, to marksmanship, as well as every other random competition Lance had come up with for the two.

But despite that, Keith always managed to pull ahead of him. Sure he decimated Keith as far as marksmanship went, but that was hardly an accomplishment when his bayard was a rifle. He was certainly more successful in team exercises than the red paladin as well, but that wasn't really very hard to do. Lance naturally got along with people most of the time, so working together had never been an issue for him.

Even after including all of that, however, Keith still had a twelve point lead over him. Shiro could pat him on the back and tell him how much he was improving all he wanted, it wouldn't change the fact that Lance still trailed far behind the others.

It didn't really seem to make sense. They were all paladins of Voltron, chosen to save the universe, but Lance always seemed to be the runner-up in literally every aspect of the job.

Pidge was smarter, Hunk was stronger, and Shiro was just generally better. But Lance could live with all that.

Pidge and Hunk were his best friends. It was only natural that they'd be awesome at what they did. And Shiro? God Shiro was a legend amongst pilots. Not to mention he, by far, had the most experience out of all the paladins.

Lance could rationalize why he couldn't compare to any of them. Keith was the only one he had issues with.

It wasn't so much that there was anything wrong with Keith, in particular, it was just… why did he have to be everything Lance wanted to be?

Keith was a better pilot, a more skilled combatant, and he even had an easier time with comebacks than Lance did! It was frustrating!

Every time Lance thought he'd managed to improve, Keith always managed to improve just a little bit more. The worst part, the absolute worst part, was how effortless he made it all look. Even when he trained, he somehow managed to do better than Lance. Getting farther in the training program than Lance almost on a daily basis.

It was infuriating.

What made it even more so was just how much Lance admired him for it. Keith managed to be everything Lance wanted. A great pilot, a great fighter, and with a wit to match. That was what Lance had worked so hard at the garrison to be, and Keith was already it!

Lance sat against the wall and watched as Pidge managed to trip up Hunk's footing, knocking the big guy over. At least he wasn't the only one who seemed to be on a losing streak that morning.

Then again in a one on one fight between Hunk and Pidge, the odds were rather in Pidge's favor. Hunk was bigger and stronger, but Pidge was faster and much more agile. His best friend wasn't a bad fighter, but his skills didn't really lie in dealing with enemies in close quarters.

Give Hunk his bayard, find him some high ground, and let him go down on a large group of enemies and he was set. But pit him against a single opponent in a cramped space and he wouldn't have as much room to really exert all that force he had.

And Pidge? Pidge was the complete opposite.

Drop Pidge in the middle of an open space surrounded by enemies and she'd get overwhelmed in a heartbeat. It wasn't that she couldn't handle more than one enemy at a time, but she didn't have Hunk sheer bulk to keep her grounded.

Pidge's strong point was a classic hit and run tactic. Strike the enemy where it hurts, retreat, evaluate your position, strike again. Rinse and repeat. Lance supposed her bayard reflected that. It was the smallest, but also the most versatile out of them all. At least as far as he could tell at the moment.

Sighing, Lance ran a hand through his brown hair. It had become damp with sweat after five consecutive sparring matches in a row.

Shiro had likely been right about Lance taking it too far. But Lance had had a good feeling that morning. As though this would be his lucky day or something.

Really it'd been a silly thing to suppose. Luck was never on Lance's side. He had to be one of the unluckiest people in the universe considering he was now stuck in space, far away from home, fighting a life or death battle.

Pressing his back against the cool wall, Lance closed his eyes and tried to let the tension flow out of his body. His arms were a little sore from wrestling with Keith all morning, and his shoulders felt stiff from the strain. Next time he'd have to pace himself better.

Just as Lance started to drowse, a metallic sound snapped him wide awake once more. Looking around for the source he saw the vent to his left rattle. Blinking, Lance scooted over and lifted it open.

Pit's little blue body toppled out of the vent and landed on the floor in a daze.

"Oh." Lance smiled a little. "It's you Pit. How's it going?"

The small mouse scrambled back onto his paws and scurried over to the blue paladin, crawling up his leg to take a perch on his knee. Lance reached out and scratched the small blue creature on the head affectionately.

The mice had to be one of the weirdest things about Lance's trip through the cosmos. Not so much because there was anything strange about them, but rather because he never expected aliens to have their own mice.

Though they were candy-colored they were indistinguishable from the mice on earth. It was embarrassing to admit, but that resemblance gave Lance a sense of comfort. If there were mice in outer space, then all this alien mumbo jumbo might not be so overwhelming after all.

Besides that, the mice also reminded him of all the pets he and his siblings had had growing up. Their presence reminded Lance of home. Of his family, and all the places he'd loved.

He supposed that was why he'd given them all names.

Lance studied the tiny blue mouse as it watched the sparring match between Pidge and Hunk intently. It was funny how he always showed up during their training exercises and spectated. Really Lance supposed he should have been grateful that today Pit had been late. Otherwise, he would have seen the blue paladin wipe out five consecutive times in a row.

He stifled a chuckle.

Pit.

Lance had been really clever to come up with that name. Tiny like a fruit pit. But if you swallowed him, he'd probably make you choke.

"What are you smirking about?"

He turned to see Keith staring down at him.

Frowning, Lance focused his gaze in the completely opposite direction.

"Nuthin," he pouted.

BAM

"Okay Pidge, I think Hunk's had enough." Shiro sighed.

"I thought you said you were gonna go easy on me!"

"I was. You owe me some peanut butter cookies."


End file.
